I Dream of the Devil
by 01100101
Summary: Based entirely on a dream I had last night. Please don't ask me why it doesn't make any sense because I'll tell you that it's based entirely on a dream I had last night lol It was just bugging me and I had to write it down.


_Uh so this is based entirely on a dream I had last night which I thought was creepy and also funny, so I wanted to write it down someplace. If anyone reads this and wonders why it doesn't make a whole lot of sense…that's why lol_

Camp. I am at camp. I've never been to camp, but this must be what it is. I'm standing in a grassy field, surrounded by dozens and dozens of kids of all ages, everyone wearing shorts and brightly colored t-shirts, luggage folded under their tan arms. I look down and see I too am holding a suitcase. Stretching out before me are two rows of small, square cabins, one row on either side of a dirt path that runs directly through the center of everything. The chatter of the kids around me is incessant and droning. This must be camp.

A councilor, who looks like someone I know but can't remember who, orders us into our respective cabins. There are two sets of bunk beds to one cabin and a couple of small dressers for four kids to share. The three girls in my cabin seem familiar but again, I can't place them. They don't look up or speak to me when I enter, but instead begin unpacking their clothes. I stand there for a moment, then place my suitcase on a lower bunk, and turn away. They are still silently unpacking when I leave.

I go to the pool. I don't know if I'm allowed to go to the pool, but I do it anyway. It's an indoor one and not big, maybe 20 feet long and not even as wide as that. The deep end is 5 ft. My brother is there. He has somehow regressed to the age of six years old. I think about how old I am. Maybe…17 or 18? I don't know exactly. Anyhow, he's only six and he doesn't know how to swim, so I'm going to teach him. We both get in the water and splash around in the shallow end for awhile. I look around. Everything is different shades of blue, the tile on the floor, the tile on the walls, the tile in the pool, the water. Even the light has a hint of aquamarine. There's a lifeguard chair on one end but no lifeguard or anyone else in the room except for me and my brother.

I wade into the deep end and have him float on his stomach. I hold his hands to prevent him from sinking and he practices kicking his legs as fast as he can. I pull him all around the deep end, the water churning behind him. He's getting pretty good. Suddenly, he disappears. His entire body slips underwater like something is pulling him down. I tighten my grip on his hands and yank them as hard as I can. He rockets to the surface, coughing and gasping for air, eyes wide. I pull him close to me and stand very still for a moment. The two of us wait in the deep end of the pool. But nothing happens. No one else is here with us.

Okay. Time to get out. I cautiously make my way to the edge of the pool, still holding onto my brother. He is completely silent but looks terrified. I feel as though we're both being watched as I walk as quickly as I can to the edge. I'm almost there when the floor of the pool drops out from beneath me. It's as though it disappeared completely. My body sinks like a rock, straight down, 10 feet, 20 feet, and still I feel no bottom. The water is dark now and my ears pop painfully. I spread my limbs and kick, propelling myself as quickly as I can towards the light. My head breaks the surface and I gasp for breath. I see a dark shape moving along the edge of the pool out of the corner of my eye but before I can turn around I realize that during the drop, I'd let go of my brother. I don't see him floating on the surface.

I dive beneath the water and see him. The pool is once again 5 feet deep and he is lying on the floor, motionless. Air bubbles rise from his lips in a steady stream but his eyes are closed. My heart jerks in my chest. I kick ferociously towards him with all my strength, wrap my arms around his tiny body and pushing off the floor, I propel us upwards as fast as I can. I can see the edge of the pool. I break the surface. As soon as I do, a hideous face fills my vision, a twisted, dark head floating in space. Almost a hallucination. But as soon as I see it, it's gone. As soon as it's gone, I can no longer remember what it looked like.

My brother is coughing up water as I pull both of us out of the pool. He's shaking, but alive. I scan the pool house. Still no one but the two of us. I send my brother back to camp. I tell him to go straight to bed and that I'll see him in the morning. As soon as he's gone, I make a phone call.

"Hello? It's me. You've got to help me. Please, you've got to come as quick as you can. _Hurry!_ " I can't hear the other person on the line, but I know they can hear me. I hang up.

A few minutes pass and there is a knock on the pool house door. Not the big double door that everyone uses as the main entrance, but from a small door on the other side of the pool. The knocks are loud and heavy. It's him, thank _god_. I rush to the door and throw it open. In walks a man bigger than the doorway itself and harrier than a shag carpet. It's…Hagrid? At first I'm confused but then I remember no, I guess that is who I called on the phone.

"You have to help me, please," I whisper. "He's trying to kill us."

"Who?" Hagrid says in what he thinks is a whisper, but echoes around the pool room nonetheless.

"The Devil."

We go to a small bathroom off to the side, turn off the lights, crack the door and wait. From this location we can see most of the pool house. A few minutes pass and we hear the resounding click of footsteps echoing against the tiled walls. We stiffen and I hold my breath, barely daring to open my eyes. A figure appears.

He is tall, that's the first thing I notice. The second thing is that head to toe, he is as black as coal. With a second look I can see that is features are very European- a long straight nose, thin delicately shaped lips, a weak brow- but his skin is far darker than any human's could possibly be. His hair, black too, is slicked back close against his skull and his beard is trimmed to a goatee (which, let's be honest is the evilest type of facial hair there is.) His shirt, pants and boots are all black. He is nothing but a shadow except for the whites of his eyes, which gleam. He walks nonchalantly around the pool, circling but looking at nothing in particular.

"The Devil," I whisper, almost involuntarily.

"That's not the Devil," Hagrid scoffs. "He's _a_ devil but he's not _the_ Devil." As if that makes sense.

"What?" I ask. Hagrid gestures to the figure.

"His arms are all wrong." I take a look at the man's arms. His shoulders are very broad and the arms beneath the shirt appear to be well-chiseled.

"What's wrong with them?" I whisper. "They look good to me."

"Flatterer," a voice says just left of my ear. Hagrid and I twist around to see the figure, crouching behind us in the dark. He smiles and I see that his teeth too, are white.

Hagrid and I stagger backwards out of the bathroom and he straightens up, following us into the pool house. At this distance I can now see what I couldn't before- two small, black horns protrude from just above his widows peak, breaking the slick shell of his hair. I almost gasp. This seems to excite him and he begins to circle us with a slow and lazy step. He reminds me of a lion watching a house cat. In his eyes is the recognition of something so similar to, yet so beneath himself. No hatred, only amusement and curiosity. And like the lion, behind that is the promise that when his curiosity is sated, he will eat me.

Suddenly, I don't want to fight him. I don't want Hagrid's help with anything. I just want to get out of there. I take Hagrid by the hand and we slowly back away towards the double doors. The devil grins wider. I open my mouth to say something but Hagrid sees it and shakes his head.

"Don't engage 'im," he says to me. The devil grins even wider. He is still following us slowly, hands behind his back. I can't help myself.

"You're the face I saw in the pool," I say with a shaky voice. "You tried to kill my brother." We're almost at the doors now. Just a little bit further. The figure shakes his head.

"I don't want your brother." His voice is angelic. "I only wanted you. Your…attention." We've reached the double doors. They are propped open and beyond them is a generic hallway and staircase. Beyond _that_ is the door to the outside. I eye it.

"Why?" He smiles and from behind his back produces a red rose. He holds it out to me by the tip of the stem.

"For you."

I should run, but I can't. I'm too angry. I am suddenly angrier than I'd ever been. How _dare_ he? And a red rose? How cliché can you get! In one fluid motion I smack the rose from his hand and turn on my heel towards the door. I get no more than three steps before melodic laughter sounds through the hall.

"HahahahAHAHAHAHA!" He is doubled over in laughter, the rose on the floor at his feet.

"WHAT?" I yell in frustration, then feel a pang and look down at my hand. Beads of dark blood are welling up in two thin scratches trailing along my palm. One bead rolls from my skin and drops to the floor. The laughing stops.

"The contract is signed." And with a blank face, he turns to walk away.

I'm not done with him. I ball my fists and cross the three steps to the doorway.

"Soooo….are you gonna maybe explain that shit or are you gonna just keep being cryptic for no reason?" He turns to me, eyes wide. No one's ever said anything like that to him before. He's almost frozen for a moment, then he turns back towards me.

"You signed the contract with blood from a thorn. I own your soul, now all I have to do is kill you." He says the last words without a hint of a smile and with an honest expression. "Not right now though, I'll probably do it later." I'm in shock, but I still manage to go off.

"You're gonna kill me? You're gonna _kill me?_ _Oooooh_ what a big, scary tough demon! He's brave enough to murder one whole girl who's _100 pounds soaking wet all by himself!_ What _is_ this bullshit? What do you _get_ out of it anyway! _Pleeeeease,_ tell me! What could you _possibly_ get out of murdering innocent people who have done absolutely nothing to you in their entire life?!"

"10 bucks." I blink.

"Excuse me?" He shrugs and leans against the doorway.

"10 bucks," he repeats earnestly.

"You get…10 bucks. For killing people." He can't be serious.

"Yeah," he says. "Satan gives me 10 bucks every time I collect someone's soul and kill them." I can't believe this.

"That's how much killing someone is worth to you. 10 bucks. 10 US dollars." He smiles and shrugs again.

"So…couldn't I just like…give you 15 dollars _not_ to kill me?"

"No, that's- wait." His expression changes and he scrunches up his face as if thinking hard. For a moment, he seems almost human. "Well maybe…no, no that wouldn't work," he decides with a smile.

"Why not?"

"Because then I wouldn't get your soul." I shift uncomfortably.

"I mean…I signed the contract. So you'd still get my soul, you'd just have to wait to collect it until I died of natural causes." His lip folds over in a pout and he stamps his foot comically.

"But I want it _now!"_ I roll my eyes in disgust. Now he's making fun of me. I turn and grab Hagrid's hand, dragging him towards the exit. This time we're leaving for real.

"Wait." Something in his voice makes me stop. "Come here." I turn slowly, unwillingly. He is still leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, a thoughtful look on his face.

"What do you want?" His eyes are so violating.

"Come here," he repeats softly. No way. If he has something to say he can come over here. But like a zombie, I shuffle forward anyway. The closer I get, the wider his smile grows until I am standing right in front of him and all his teeth are shining like a waning moon in the night sky.

Nothing is funny anymore and I'm not in control of my limbs. I can't seem to run even as he lifts his body from the door jam and closes the distance between us. Sweat dews on my skin, making it sensitive to even the slightest breeze. He stirs the stale air with his movement and where it touches me feels like ice.

"I'll wait a little while." His voice is velvet and barely more than a whisper and I'm not sure if I've heard him correctly over the thundering of the pulse in my ears. "But…"

He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling our bodies close together. His scent, like soil after a rainfall, fills my nostrils. He's beautiful. His face bears down upon mine and I can feel his stare but I can't bring myself to look him in the eye. He brushes his mouth across my ear and whispers,

"You will be mine in the hereafter," and he presses a deliberate, lingering kiss to my cheek. His lips are neither warm nor cold as I would've suspected, but I can feel his teeth plainly as they graze my skin. They feel hungry and I am filled with an impossible dread. He is not beautiful. He is hideous and unholy. He is sulfur and gas. He is the mothers who drown their children. He is the silence of anticipation between the pulling of a hangman's lever and the breaking of a neck.

All my bravery evaporates and my legs give out. He holds my weight with one arm for a moment before releasing me to collapse on the floor. I cover my head in my arms and my breathing comes rapid and shallow. My mind is blank except for one word.

No no no no no

No no no

Nono no no no non o no

No no no no no no no

No no no no no no nono no no no no no no no

No no no no no

No

No

No

A pair of arms that I recognize as Hagrid's pick me up and carry me away.


End file.
